Chapter 22

Twenty-Two

Regan

M y tongue grated against the roof of my mouth like sandpaper.

I blinked, trying to get my bearings before I realized I was back in my bed, but more importantly, I wasn't alone.

I rolled over, not expecting who was next to me.

"Harper? Where did Rook go?"

Her head popped up, looking around in a daze. "I think he left after he dumped you into bed with me."

"Last night?"

"I came in around two in the morning, so after that? I don't know. I wasn't looking at the clock."

It was eight now, so he had stayed with me most of the night. I hadn't heard the bikes, so I slipped out of the room. Each of the rooms I checked in was empty, but the beds were all a mess. Obviously, his friends had stayed the night.

The back patio was empty of bikes, but trash from the party had been thrown everywhere. I groaned. I should never throw another party simply because I didn't want to be alone here. Or because I was mad at my dad for always leaving, no matter how much I needed him.

But Rook had stayed. He even stayed while I was too busy throwing up. As much as I wanted to find it sweet, it made me more nervous about what he wanted from me.

I went back up to my room to get dressed before shaking Harper a little.

"I'm heading out for a bit. You good?"

"Mhhmm," she mumbled, burying her head in the pillows.

I grabbed my bag, heading out to my car. I didn't drive much, but I loved my car. The BMW M4 was wrapped in hot pink, and it was exactly what I had wanted. My dad had given it to me years ago when I graduated from high school, but I had rarely needed it at college. Then, when I came back, he had insisted on me getting driven everywhere, so I let it sit even longer.

But things had changed for me now. If I wanted to be in control of my life, getting in control of taking myself places would be an easy first step.

I headed into town first and then parked myself in front of Maverick Moto. The shop was already open for the day. I held the box of donuts in one hand, and my phone and keys in the other.

Mason grinned when I walked in. Aiden stood next to him with a grin on his face, too.

"Hey, there," Mason said with a laugh. "Heard you had a great night."

"Real great night," Aiden said. "Are those sorry for puking on you donuts for Rook?"

"I did not puke on him!" I yelled, my eyes wide, hoping he was kidding.

They both reached over, trying to open the box. I smacked at their hands, their eyes going wide and mouths dropping open.

"After those comments, I don't think you two deserve any donuts."

"Aww, come one," Mason said. "We're hungover and forced to work today."

They both pouted, waiting patiently for donuts. "We're kidding, Regan. We thought it was funny that Rook was playing nursemaid all night."

"I don't like that either. Still no donuts."

"Okay, how about Rook is all about you to the point he would rather hang out with you puking than go out riding? It's a big deal. We get to make fun of him until he tries to kill us."

Aiden reached out, waiting for me to hand him the box as he flashed that perfect smile. "You really think that sweet smile is going to get you a donut?"

"If you give me a donut, I won't tell Rook how sweet you think my smile is," Aiden said, laughing.

As if he heard us, Rook stepped out.

I couldn't move, the heat spreading over me until my cheeks were hot and my thighs clenched. How did he still look good after a night of no sleep and taking care of me? His dark shirt clung to him and his jeans hung low on his hips. Two full arms of tattoos and ones creeping up his neck seemed to turn me on more, and I couldn't believe I had been so nervous to spend the night with him that I got drunk instead of taking a chance at sleeping with him.

"Regan? What are you doing here?" he asked, coming around the counter to me. He immediately flipped open the lid to the donuts. "Delivery?"

I nodded, and he didn't hesitate to grab one.

Aiden and Mason groaned. "We try to grab one and she wants to take an arm off. You take one and she's fine. I see you're picking favorites," Mason said.

"Of course she's picking favorites," Rook said. "If you think you even had a chance to be the favorite, you need your ass kicked." He walked us out of earshot of the guys, leaving the box behind as he turned to me. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to apologize."

"Apologize for what?"

"Um," I said, looking around to see if anyone could hear us. "Getting so drunk that I couldn't even handle getting myself to bed?"

He smiled, another true, genuine smile, and I wondered if my legs could give out just from that.

"There's nothing to apologize for. You're allowed to have fun."

"But you kind of implied you wanted to do other things."

"And it got you so worked up you had to get drunk to get out of it." He laughed now, and I smacked him.

"Rook, I did not," I hissed. "I mean, I didn't do it to get out of it."

"It's alright. You were having too much fun being a rebel. What are you doing later?" he asked.

"Tonight? I have a date," I said. It was a lie, and one I didn't know why I was telling him, but part of me wanted to see his reaction. Maybe it would help me figure out what he wanted from me. If this all revolved around sleeping together, or more.

His scowl made me laugh, and I wondered what terrible things were on his mind. I nearly scolded myself for how giddy it made me that I knew he was thinking dark, dangerous things all because I would be going out with someone else.

"With who?"

"None of your business."

He grabbed the back of my neck, dragging me closer. "You are always coming around here being a brat," he said with a shake of his head."It absolutely is my business. What the fuck do you think you are doing going on a date with someone?"

"I'm a free woman."

I wanted to pull away, but there was a part of me, a dark and twisted part, that liked his possessiveness. I wanted to be wanted, to be needed by someone, and Rook continued to give that to me. It was a dangerous game, one that I knew I couldn't win, but here I was still playing.

"Maybe you shouldn't be," he growled. One arm circled my waist, picking me up just enough that my toes could barely touch the ground as he dragged me towards the garages in the back.

Fear involuntarily bubbled in my throat. I knew Rook could be violent. I knew he could hurt others, kill them, and I had let myself get comfortable with that. I had let my guard down and then walked right into his hands. But he had taken care of me all night. His touch had been gentle, and him being with me had been a comfort. I didn't think he would hurt me, but now he was dragging me down the hall like he wanted to.

His grip was firm on my waist. The other still wrapped around my neck. His fingers dug into me, and for the first time in days, I wondered again if I had misjudged him. It was easy to hide who you truly were for the days we hung out. It's not like he had let me into his life at all.

The possibilities of what he could do, would willingly do, twisted my gut with dread and excitement.

We made it to the office before he said a word.

"Lie down," he ordered, pushing things across the desk.

"Why? What are you going to do?"

That sinister grin came over his face, the one I knew from the first night we met, and my heart raced.

"Lie down, Regan."

I listened, too scared to find out what would happen if I didn't.

He pulled out a black marker before he pulled my shirt up and my leggings down. "I'll be nice and give you this one for now," he said, moving my head back down when I tried to watch. "But if you wash this off before your date, the next one will be permanent."

He leaned down over me, the marker pulling against my skin as he wrote on my lower stomach. It almost tickled, but the hard push of the tip made me hold my breath.

"That's what you are doing?" I yelled, looking down at his name scrawled across my lower stomach. My head fell back against the desk, and I let out a heavy breath. "Dammit, Rook, I thought you were about to cut me open or something."

He laughed and jumped up onto the desk, coming down over me. "Why would I kill you?"

"I don't know. Maybe this is your murder room or something."

"This would be a pretty shitty murder room. There are papers, my bike, the desks. Who would clean it up?"

"All this because I had a date?"

"No, all of this because I told you that you are mine, and you didn't listen."

"So I'm supposed to go out with him, but apparently, not get undressed in front of him?"

He shrugged, kissing down my neck. "You could technically get undressed in front of him, but he's going to have questions. And I will be there to answer every single one. There is a third option."

"Which is?" I asked, my face flushed, the heat creeping up my spine from him kissing me.

"You go out with me tonight instead."

"You're…asking me on a date?"

"We're all going out for a ride tonight, and then a movie. You could come with me."

"So not a date?"

He sighed, leaning his head down onto my shoulder. "Whatever you need to call it to make you go with me."

"That's not an answer," I demanded. I stayed still underneath him. One minute, I was scared the man could kill me, and the next, I was demanding he tell me if we were going on a date or not.

He moved down my neck, kissing his way to my collarbone. "It's enough of an answer. Are you coming with me? Or are you going out on a date, so I have to follow you all night?"

"You wouldn't."

"I absolutely would."

"Fine. I'll go with you, so one, you don't stalk me more, and two, I don't wake up tomorrow with a permanent tattoo of your name on me."

He gave a satisfied groan, dropping to kiss me. "I change my mind. Please go on your date. Stalking you, killing him, tattooing my name on you. It sounds like my dream date."

"I'm going with you!"

"Fine," he said, pressing his groin against mine. "Then get out of here so I can get things done, and I'll pick you up later."

"You're really going to take me out and let me see some sliver of your life?"

"I am," he said as he got up and kissed his name written on me. Then he was pulling me to my feet with him. His arm wrapped around my shoulders, walking me back out front to the shop and then to my car."You drove here? I assumed you had a fancy ass driver waiting out here."

"Nope, just me and my car."

"Do you drive it often? I've never seen it. I love it, but I've never seen it."

"You seem shocked, and I'm really glad I'm the one surprising you this time. And to answer your question, no, I haven't driven it in years."

"Why today?"

"It felt…rebellious," I said, smiling as I got in. "I'll see you later?"

"You'll hear me coming, Rebel."

"Or you can text me like a normal person," I yelled, putting down the window as I started the car.

"No," he yelled, grinning as I backed out. "That fun new tattoo you have better be there when I see you tonight."

I couldn't find anything to say as I pulled out, glancing back more than once to see Rook still there, watching and waiting as I left. I would see him in a few hours, and I already wished it wouldn't be that long.

I felt like I was losing my mind. One day, I had been living my perfectly normal life, and the next, I had gotten on the back of a murderer's motorcycle and had been chasing after him ever since.

I didn't know if this was a slow descent into madness or if I had tripped and fallen into it immediately. But either way, I liked it.